


rollin’ like thunder

by olive2read



Category: Actor RPF, Rocketman (2019) RPF, Scottish Actor RPF, Welsh Actor RPF
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, First Time, Hand Jobs, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Praise Kink, Sleepy Sex, closet metaphors, minor edging, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-08-11 10:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20151931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olive2read/pseuds/olive2read
Summary: AU where Madderton is legit a thing





	1. don’t wish it away

**Author's Note:**

> All titles from Elton John’s “I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues”
> 
> Apologies for any flaws in dialect.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleepy Taron spends the night with Richard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place immediately after Taron & Richard filmed their episode of Carpool Karaoke: the Series.
> 
> —  
I kinda wish I could add tags for each chapter individually, without breaking works into a “series,” so, in an effort to appease the voice in my head, here are the tags specific to this chapter:
> 
> Soft, First Time, Boys Kissing, Sleepy Sex, Hand Jobs, Biting

Taron sighed and tried to pay attention as Blake gave his last few comments before the day officially wrapped. It had been a long day of shooting, however fun and silly, and between his rigorous shooting schedule and all the promotional tour events, things were starting to take their toll on his energy levels. He was definitely looking forward to having a couple of days off. Plus his stomach was rumbling and that always pulled focus from whatever else was happening around him.

It grumbled at him again and Dickie met his eyes and smirked, then turned back to Blake and nodded, making a very convincing “mmm” noise as though he’d been following studiously along. Taron couldn’t help a smile as he shook his head. Bloody teacher’s pet, always so proper and polite. He bit his lip and quickly tamped down the hot flash of desire to see what an improper and impolite Dickie would be like.

“Thanks everyone!” Blake finally finished, just as Taron’s stomach went again. 

Dickie threw an arm over his shoulder and tugged him close. Taron swallowed the shiver that threatened to overtake him at the press of Dickie’s body. He forced a smile as Dickie shook him companionably, saying, “No wonder they named you thunder … Let’s get some food in yeh, T, and stop the growling o’ that beast.”

____

“Are yeh gonna come up an’ visit fer a bit?”

Taron wanted to, he so did, but his tiredness was catching up to him now that his belly was full. He shook his head. “Not tonight, mate, I think I’m just gonna crash.”

Dickie’s smile faltered, then popped back into place. “Oh, well, alright, then.” Taron’s brow furrowed. He hated that Dickie had put his polite mask on. He’d thought they were past the point where they faked it for each other.

“Dickie?” he prodded gently.

Dickie sighed and a little of the mask dropped. “S’fine, T, honestly. Ah just miss you an’ Ah thought we’d have more time te catch up properly, s’all.”

A sliver of guilt niggled at Taron. They hadn’t seen much of each other lately, due to a combination of their shooting schedules and work on other projects. He’d been looking forward to some quality time as well and dinner in a busy restaurant wasn’t the same. “I’d love to, Dickie, I really would, I’m just knackered and I’ll probably be rubbish company.”

They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts. Taron was a bit surprised when Dickie spoke first. “D’you have an early day t’morrow, then?” he asked tentatively, looking down at his hands. “B’cause you could stay, if yeh wanted. That way Ah don’t hafta worry about yeh making it home.” He paused, then looked up at Taron, smile wobbly but there. “An’ we can mebbe chat over breakfast?”

Taron smiled. “Alright, then,” he acquiesced, “but you’re not allowed to whinge at me if I pass out after five minutes.”

____

Taron kicked off his shoes, shucked his jeans, and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing his clothes haphazardly over a nearby chair. Dickie raised an eyebrow and Taron raised one right back. Dickie shook his head fondly and knelt down to carefully unlace his own shoes. Taron sprawled out on the bed, wriggling down into the cozy blanket under him and humming contentedly at the balance of soft and firm. He closed his eyes as Dickie turned off all the lights except one bedside lamp and felt himself drifting. He looked up after a moment, realising that Dickie had been talking to him.

“Wha?” he asked. 

Dickie smiled and came to stand next to the bed. “Ah said, yer welcome te sleep over but you canna take up the entire bed by yerself, mate. Shove over.” 

Taron pulled his limbs in a bit closer and scooted a bit to the side further from Dickie as he sat gingerly on the bed. He was suddenly hyperaware of the proximity of Dickie’s body and the fact that neither of them had on more than boxer briefs. Moving slowly and carefully, as though just as intensely conscious of this information, Dickie lowered himself to lie on his side, facing Taron with about a foot between them, elbow bent and head propped on his fist.

They talked about everything and nothing, laughing often, their voices low. Taron kept feeling the heaviness of fatigue pull at him but then Dickie would say something funny or gesticulate in such a way that his hand brushed against Taron’s flank and he’d be wide awake again. He didn’t think that Dickie was purposely trying to keep him up, their friendship was full of laughter and casual touches and there was nothing out of the norm in Dickie’s behaviour. 

Taron, however, was struggling with more than his need for sleep. Each time Dickie touched him, he felt his cock perk up and, so far, he’d managed to talk it back down but it was getting more and more difficult as his body moved toward sleep. He could tell his defences were starting to crumble out from under him. It made him feel like such a hypocrite, demanding that Dickie not put on his social mask when it was just them and yet hiding behind one himself. He just didn’t know what else to do.

While they were filming, he could justify it as a completely natural reaction. They were playing characters involved in an intensely passionate and volatile relationship, after all, so the confusion of his body made sense. His cock didn’t realise that the desire he was simulating wasn’t meant to translate to actual horniness, especially considering all of the making out. He’d tried to explain to it that they kept stopping and starting because that was how film worked, but it had become increasingly insistent as production continued and had been especially obnoxious the day they’d spent filming the major sex scene. Most of it had been manageable thanks to the awful cock socks they’d been wearing but they’d done a few takes without them and at one point he’d had to apologise to Dickie for his erection, which just might have been the most mortifying experience of his life to date.

He’d had similar issues on past projects but it had never progressed to that point before. Normally as long as he’d had a good wank before shooting, he was fine. That hadn’t been enough where Dickie was concerned though. He’d reminded himself that Rocketman had required more kissing and sex than his previous work, that there were only a couple of months left with the biggest scenes behind them, and tried to let it go. He hadn’t expected it to come up again, so to speak, just from the mere fact of Dickie’s presence and he really hoped that Dickie wouldn’t notice as it was going to be infinitely worse to apologise now. 

Dickie wound down his story and this time when his hand connected with Taron’s body, it fell on to his right hip and stayed. Taron swallowed and turned his head to look at Dickie who was gazing at him inscrutably. Taron realised that during the conversation they’d shifted closer to each other and now Dickie’s face was mere inches from his. His focus zeroed in on those fluffy pillow lips and his breath caught in his throat. Neither of them moved for a moment. Taron didn’t even blink. Then slowly, ever so slowly, giving Dickie plenty of time to move away, he raised his right hand, cupped Dickie’s jaw, and drew his face down. 

It was a soft kiss, just a brush of lips at first, then another, then another. Dickie breathed out a small sigh and dipped his tongue delicately into Taron’s mouth. He whimpered when their tongues met, gliding sensually along each other.

Taron gave himself up to the gentle exchange of tongues, the supple plushness of Dickie’s lips, the rasp of stubble on stubble. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d kissed Dickie and Dickie was kissing him back and there wasn’t a camera nearby. When Dickie’s hand slid from his hip toward his belly, fingers going under the waistband of Taron’s boxers to wrap around his hardening cock, his eyes popped open and he pulled back.

“Dickie?” he gasped, eyes questioning.

Dickie buried his face between Taron’s neck and shoulder. “Oh, Ah’m sorry, Taron,” he mumbled, starting to pull his hand back, “Ah thought, when you kissed me …” he trailed off as Taron grabbed his wrist, arresting his retreat.

Taron nuzzled his face into Dickie’s ear, kissing the place the lobe attached to his jaw, then tugging playfully on the lobe with his teeth. “Yeah, Dickie, yeah. I just, I didn’t think,” he paused and took a deep breath, “I never thought you’d let me kiss you, much less that you’d want anything more.”

Dickie huffed out a laugh. “Aye, well, _Ah_ never thought Ah’d get the chance. Ah’ve wanted to get ma hands on you fer _ages_.” He kissed the base of Taron’s throat, then withdrew his face from its hiding spot and skimmed his lips along Taron’s. “D’yeh mind, then?”

Taron grinned at him and wriggled his hips, pushing his cock into Dickie’s hand. “Do I mind that you’ve got your hand on my cock? Fuck no, Dickie, please, please touch me. In fact …” He released Dickie’s wrist, danced his fingers up along his forearm, jumped them over to his belly, and then eased inside Dickie’s boxers. His ego was pleasantly chuffed by the hardness that greeted him there.

Dickie groaned as he gave a firm tug, stretching the foreskin down over the head, then pushing it back and rubbing Dickie’s slit with his thumb to swirl the few drops of pre-come around. “God, Taron.” His mouth came down greedily over Taron’s and Taron welcomed him happily.

Taron brought his hand to his mouth, breaking their kiss for his first taste of Dickie. It was salty and somewhat tangy and much better than he’d expected. He lathered his fingers with spit and returned them to Dickie’s cock. Dickie’s hips stuttered as Taron’s hand engulfed him in warm wetness and suddenly Dickie’s fingers were on Taron’s mouth, working their way in, Dickie’s gaze hot on his as he teasingly nipped at them, then licked and sucked each finger in turn, his hand picking up speed on Dickie’s cock.

His rhythm faltered when Dickie’s now wet hand squeezed along the length of his cock, then picked up once more as Dickie brought his lips back to Taron’s. They stayed like that, wanking each other and trading kisses, neither wanting to rush this initial exploration. Dickie got to his peak first, hand locking tight around Taron’s cock and choking out Taron’s name as he came, breath hitching as Taron kept his hand moving. Taron kissed along his jaw, his cheekbones, across the bridge of his nose, murmuring to him that he was beautiful and wonderful and felt so good.

When Dickie came back to himself, he rubbed his hand into the come inside his pants and then resumed stroking Taron’s cock. The increased wetness, and the knowledge that Dickie was using his own come as lube, sent Taron hurtling toward his own orgasm. It was his turn to bury his face in the crook of Dickie’s neck. He cried out “Richard!” his mouth forming the name without conscious intention and sunk his teeth into Dickie’s shoulder.

Dickie was feathering kisses across the side of Taron’s head, his ear, any bit that was reachable in the awkward position. Taron released Dickie’s shoulder and kissed the place he’d bitten.

Dickie chuckled. “S’a good thing Ah still have the supplies te cover up yer tendency toward cannibalism.”

Taron hrmphed. His propensity for biting, scripted or not, had long been an excuse for Dickie, and Dex, and Jamie, not to mention the camera and makeup crews, to razz him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Dickie yanked on his ear. “Don’t be daft,” he said, smiling and leaning in for a kiss when Taron pulled his head back. “Now, Ah don’ know about you, but Ah don’t much fancy sleeping in come-soaked pants. Shower?” Taron grinned and nodded, accepting the hand Dickie offered to help him up. 

They took their time, kissing and touching, laughing and soaping each other. Taron felt his fatigue catch up to him as they towelled off and stumbled on his way back to the bed. Dickie wrapped a warm arm around his waist and held him up. “Easy now, love.” Dickie kissed the back of his neck, then moved carefully around him and threw back the covers. “In yeh get, then.” 

Taron crawled into the bed as Dickie turned off the light and then joined him, pulling Taron close and kissing him. He fell asleep wrapped around Dickie, blissfully content.


	2. things can only get better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taron & Richard at the Met Gala. Richard has an announcement (or two).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags specific to this chapter:
> 
> Boys Kissing, Blow Jobs, Closet Metaphors

Taron felt Dickie’s arm come around his waist, hand squeezing gently at his hip before sliding up his back in a bromance-for-public consumption embrace. He smiled into his drink as Dickie leaned in to say softly, “Ah need te tell ye summat, T. S’there somewhere we can go?”

Taron nodded and turned to press his mouth directly over Dickie’s ear, whispering, “Yeah, ’course Dickie.” He took advantage of his proximity to nip at Dickie’s ear lobe, relishing the tiny catch in his breath as he strove to hide any outward sign. “I’ll head out that door behind you, there’s a corridor, follow me in a couple of minutes.”

“A corridor? No, T, Ah meant somewhere _pri_vate.”

Taron nipped at him again. “Trust me, Dickie. Head past the gents and I’ll find you.” So saying, he pulled away slightly, threw back the rest of his drink and clapped Dickie on the back. He pulled out his phone and leaned in to snap a quick selfie. “Always a pleasure, mate,” he said loudly, nodding and turning toward the door he’d indicated. He chatted amiably with the various people he came across along the way, making constant, but hopefully not obvious, progress. Part of him wanted to rush, to hurry off for an illicit tryst with his lover, one that _Dickie_ had initiated no less, but he’d agreed to keep the more-than-friends aspects of their relationship quiet, at least for now, to appease Dickie’s need for privacy, so he made sure to keep his pace moderate and relaxed.

Once he’d made it through the door, he ensconced himself around the corner just past the door to the toilets and tried not to tap his foot impatiently. Dickie must have been just as eager because Taron heard his footsteps much sooner than he’d expected. As soon as Dickie walked past his hiding spot, he reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him further along to a closet he’d found earlier.

In a moment reminiscent of their closet scene on screen, he wrenched open the door, shoved Dickie inside, and then pulled the door closed behind him. As though taking his cue, Dickie pushed him up against the wall and kissed him. Taron laughed into the kiss and pulled Dickie’s hips hard against his own. One of Dickie’s hands was in his hair, the other undoing his tie and then yanking at his shirt to get it open. He heard at least one of the buttons pop off and skitter across the floor. 

Dickie pulled back, breathing heavily, at the sound. “Oh, fuck, T, Ah’m sorry.”

Taron laughed again, giddy at the knowledge that the normally measured and unflappable Dickie was gagging for it so desperately he’d literally been tearing Taron’s clothes off. “S’not a problem, mate. I can do one of yours, if you like, make us square an’all.” Dickie’s eyes flicked down and he bit his lip. “Hey,” Taron chucked him under the chin, bringing their gazes together, “I’m kidding, Dickie. I’d never, I know the rules, love. You’re safe w’me,” he waited for Dickie’s nod of acknowledgement, then leaned in and kissed him softly before continuing with a wink, “at least until the end of the night.”

Dickie huffed out a laugh. “Wanker,” he muttered. He lifted a hand to Taron’s chest, sliding it under the open shirt to rest above his heart, then kissed him gently. 

Taron put his hands back on to Dickie’s hips and rocked into him. “Well, if we’re not here so you can tear my clothes off – which, by the way, is still an option I’m open to exploring – then, why _are_ we in a closet, Dickie?”

Dickie’s eyes widened. “Fuck me, Ah’d forgotten!” He chuckled and shook his head. “The things yeh do te me, T.” He pressed a light kiss to Taron’s lips. “Yer lookin’ at an official member of the Eternals, you are.”

Taron gasped and felt his whole face light up as Dickie ducked his head to smile, humble and a little shy, even now. “You got it?!” Dickie looked up and nodded and Taron whooped with delight, wrapping his arms around Dickie and squeezing him tightly. “Superhero Dickie! I _knew_ it! I mean, of course you got it, who wouldn’t want Richard-fucking-Madden in their movie?!”

Dickie laughed and hugged him back. “Shhhhhh, T, s’meant te be a secret still.” Taron grinned at him sheepishly and Dickie kissed him. “An’ thanks, love. Also,” he paused and swallowed, a grin playing along his lips. 

Taron leaned back, eyebrow cocked, anticipation ramping up inside him. “Also?”

Dickie grinned at him, pressing him back against the wall. “Aye. We’re filming most of’t at Pinewood.” He leaned in and kissed Taron. “So, Ah’ll,” another kiss, this one to the corner of Taron’s jaw, then another just underneath it, “be stayin’,” a kiss to his Adam’s apple, then the base of his throat, “in London.” 

Taron cupped a hand along Dickie’s jaw and slid the other to the back of Dickie’s head, running his fingers through the soft hair there. “Mmmm. Will you? I suppose I’ll have to think up ways to entertain you during your stay.”

“You do that.” The look Dickie gave him was pure heat as he ran his tongue along Taron’s collarbone and then found the spot at the base of his throat again. Taron’s breath was beginning to speed up as Dickie lingered there, sucking lightly. He dug his chin into the spot he’d just sucked, then down along Taron’s sternum, and Taron shivered at the scrape of stubble on his skin. Dickie dropped a kiss on his chest at the bottom of the v formed by his open shirt. “An’ while you’re thinking, Ah’ll help myself to a quick taste o’yeh, love. Jus’ enough te tide me over until t’night.” Taron realised that Dickie’s body was lowering along with his mouth and felt the blood rush to his cock. He was more than half hard by the time Dickie was on his knees, unzipping his trousers and pulling his cock out.

He watched as Dickie gripped him, gulping when he squeezed and pulled the foreskin back to suck at the head. “Dickie,” he gasped out, his cock swelling further as it was surrounded by the wet heat of Dickie’s mouth. Dickie made quick work of him, putting his ever-growing knowledge of just where and how to touch Taron to good use. 

He pulled off for a second to say, “Fuck, T, yeh feel bloody brilliant in my mouth,” before engulfing him once more. Taron’s hips jerked and he bit down on his own arm to keep quiet, not caring what his teeth might do to his jacket, as he came down Dickie’s throat, shuddering as Dickie swallowed around him again and again. 

Taron wasn’t entirely sure how his legs managed to keep holding him up as Dickie got carefully to his feet, brushing off his knees, then tucking Taron’s cock back in and zipping him up. Taron blinked at him dazedly and spit out the couple of sequins he’d torn from his jacket. Dickie laughed and kissed him. Taron groaned at the taste of himself in Dickie’s mouth, marvelling at how far they’d come since their first fumbling hand jobs just a couple months before.

“Wha’ are you smilin’ at?” Dickie asked him, nipping playfully at Taron’s lips.

Taron grinned. “I’ve just tasted my come on your tongue,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “I think that makes me proper gay.”

Dickie snorted. He leaned in close to Taron’s ear. “Ef you want to, you can have yer cock up my arse later,” he whispered and Taron’s knees completed their transformation to jelly. He slid a bit down the wall until Dickie shoved a knee between his legs and held him in place. “So then you’ll definitely be ‘proper’ gay. No question.”

Taron blinked at him. “D’you mean it, Dickie? Are you sure?” This thing between them was still so new and, while they’d gotten their hands and mouths on each other at every opportunity, they hadn’t been able to steal many moments on set. Tonight was the first time they’d seen each other in two very long weeks. He’d hoped there would be sex, once they got back to a hotel room and out of the public eye, but they’d both been somewhat shy about the topic of the first anal penetration. To have Dickie ask for it so boldly did something to Taron, and not just to his cock.

Dickie smiled and kissed him. “Aye, Taron. Fuck, love, et’s all Ah could think about as Ah got ready.” His accent got stronger as he dug his fingers into Taron’s hair and pulled, exposing Taron’s throat. He took advantage of the opportunity to suck his favourite spot at the base. “Ah love the taste of you on m’tongue and way it feels when you suck me. Ah love the feel of you in m’hand and Ah love it when you bite me.” He nipped at Taron’s throat, as if to demonstrate, then soothed the spot with his tongue. “Ah want te know how yeh feel inside me and what it’s like when yer riding my cock.” He rasped his stubble up the column of Taron’s throat, then down again as Taron whimpered. “Ah want te try ev’rything wit’ you, Taron.”

“God, I want all of that too, Dickie. So much.” He punched Dickie lightly in the chest. “Except, how the _fuck_ am I supposed to go back out there and smile and mingle now?” he protested.

Dickie smoothed his hands down Taron’s lapels. “We’ll take a turn through the gents o’ the way back so you can collect yerself, old fruit.”

____

Staring at his reflection next to Dickie’s a few moments later, Taron grumbled at the unfairness of the universe. Dickie had been the one on his knees and yet he was still picture-perfect leading man Richard Madden, not a hair out of place. Taron, on the other hand, had been _wrecked_. His tie was gone, his shirt was torn (thankfully only one button was missing), there was a bald patch on his jacket (he was fairly certain it wasn’t obvious), his hair was in disarray, and there was a bright patch of redness at the base of his throat that seemed highly suspect.

“Yeh look great, T.”

“I look like I’ve just been shagged in a closet.”

Dickie’s reflection grinned at him, eyes dancing. “Like Ah said, yeh look great.”

Taron glowered at the smug bastard as Dickie produced a comb from his back pocket, of course he carried a bloody comb, and helped sort out his hair. Taron tried to maintain his glare but was quickly overcome by the fact that Dickie was grooming and petting him, in public, even if they were alone in the gents and no one else could see. He preened under the attention.

Dickie dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose. “C’mon, mate, the sooner we get out there, the sooner we can get away.”

That, and the knowledge of what awaited him tonight, was sufficient incentive to motivate Taron back to the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based on smutty speculations by myself and so many others of what might have happened at the Met Gala to get Taron all dishevelled and wrecked. [A before shot](https://mobile.twitter.com/richardmupdates/status/1125907043267817473), from a Richard fan’s twitter, and [an after shot](https://mobile.twitter.com/dailytaronnews/status/1125755179096322048), from a fan of Taron’s.
> 
> Thanks to drinkingstars for pulling me down into this rabbithole 😏


	3. laughin’ like children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the hotel after the Gala, Taron has some logistical questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags specific to this chapter:
> 
> First Time, Anal Sex, Biting, Laughter During Sex

Taron sat on the edge of the bed, clad only in his boxer briefs, and tried to tamp down his nerves. This had sounded so sexy when Dickie had mentioned it earlier but right now he just felt anxious and vulnerable. Dickie came in from the bathroom carrying three tubes, a box of condoms, and a book. Taron’s eyes widened and he swallowed, or at least he made the attempt. The lump in his throat didn’t seem to go anywhere, however.

Dickie dropped everything onto the bed behind to Taron and sat down next to him, dropping a hand on his thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Are yeh alright, T?”

Taron bit his lip and looked down at his hands where they rested in his lap. “I don’t know about this, Dickie.”

Dickie’s face fell. “Have yeh changed yer mind, then?”

Taron turned, swinging his left leg up on to the bed and hooking his right leg over his left foot. He looked into Dickie’s eyes. “No, Dickie. Well, maybe. I-I don’t know. I just ... What if I’m rubbish?”

Dickie smiled and squeezed Taron’s thigh again. “You won’t be.”

“You don’t _know_ that, though, Dickie. I might be. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing. What if you hate it? What if I hurt you?”

Dickie pulled him in for a hug, smoothing a hand through Taron’s hair as Taron gripped him tightly.

“Ef Ah hate it, we’ll stop. Ef you hurt me, we’ll stop.” He kissed Taron’s cheek and pulled him back to lock their gazes together. “Ah want you so much, T, an’ Ah don’t have any idea wha’ Ah’m doin’ either. S’why Ah got the book,” he nodded his head toward the large, and somewhat intimidating, tome behind them. It was at least three inches thick and called ‘The Guide To Getting It On.’

“Was it helpful?” He bit his lip again. “Where did you even _get_ it?”

“Ah asked a very discreet friend to get it. Ah jus’, Ah wanted to be prepared.” 

“Have you _read_ it?”

Dickie looked down and nodded. “Not all of et, no, but,” a gulp, “the, em, the pertinent section.” He clasped his hands together and cracked a couple of knuckles, a sure sign he was uncomfortable. “Ef you don’t want to, we don’t have to, T. S’alright.” 

Taron felt like a shit. This had gone wrong somewhere and it was his fault but he wasn’t sure how to get them back on track. “Fuck, Dickie. I’m sorry.” He reached out and took Dickie’s hands in his own, stopping them twisting. He brought each one to his mouth and kissed it, then brought them down into his lap. “I do want to, Dickie. Truly, I do. I’m just,” he blew out a big breath, “I’m just scared.” 

Dickie raised his head and met Taron’s eyes, a half-hearted smile on his lips. “Aye, T, me too,” he said quietly.

Taron took a deep breath and nodded. “Ok. Right. So, um, well, seeing as you’ve done the homework, how does this work, then?”

Dickie gave him a wobbly smile. “Em, well, et says to use a lot o’lube,” he waved his right hand, still clasped within Taron’s left, at the three tubes, “and to,” he swallowed, “to, em, go slowly to stretch and prepare.”

Taron glanced down at the various lubes. “Does it matter which one we use?”

Dickie nodded shakily. “Em, yeah, there’s all sorts of rules, apparently? An’ et, em, et depends on ef we’re going to use condoms or not.”

Taron blinked at him. “Wait, _if_ we use them?”

Dickie flushed and Taron’s eyes widened as a rosy hue spread up his face and down his neck, across his chest. He’d thought he’d seen all the manifestations of Dickie’s shyness but this was new. “Ah got tested for everything a couple weeks ago and ah’ve not been wi’ anyone else. So.”

Taron reached out a hand and traced the edge of the flush along Dickie’s chest, then back up his throat, and across his cheekbones, a bit overcome with how much and how deeply he appreciated everything Dickie had done to get ready for this. He pulled Dickie to him for a kiss, pressing their foreheads together and brushing his lips across Dickie’s. He slipped his tongue into Dickie’s mouth when it opened for him on a sigh, then nudged at Dickie’s tongue with his own. Dickie surged up against him, hands moving into Taron’s hair. Taron lay back, pulling Dickie with him and groaned as Dickie’s weight came over him. He automatically pushed his hips up into Dickie’s, the urge making him realise he was getting hard. He kicked himself for ever doubting that he wanted this. _Of course_ he did. He wanted anything, and everything, he could have with Dickie.

He broke the kiss and smiled up at Dickie. “I was tested just after Christmas and I’ve not been with anyone else either.”

Dickie raised a brow. “After Christmas?”

Taron grinned at him. “Yeah. Elton pulled me aside after dinner and told me that I wasn’t fooling anyone. He also said that, if he were any judge, you weren’t either and I should go for it. It’s why he invited us that night. He wanted to know if I had any chance with you.”

Dickie laughed and pressed his forehead to Taron’s chest, hiding his face. “God, wha’ a pair we are. How is’t tha’ we were the last te know?”

Taron laughed too, both because he was relieved that they seemed to be past the worst of the tension and because Dickie was right. Friends had been trying to set them up for years but neither had ever acted on the advice as they were both straight. Or, at least, they’d thought they had been.

He lifted Dickie’s chin and kissed him. “What do _you_ want, Dickie? D’you want me to use a condom?”

That pretty pink flush flared across Dickie’s cheeks again as he shook his head. “No, T. Ah mean, ef you want to, then yes, o’course, but, for my part, no.”

Taron nodded. “Right, that’s sorted, then. No condoms. What does that mean for the lube and-and the, um, the stretching?”

Dickie sat up, straddling Taron’s hips, then reached over and grabbed the black tube from the pile, handing it to Taron. 

Taron’s brows climbed into his hairline. “‘Meat Grease’? Seriously?”

A laugh bubbled out of Dickie. “Aye. S’not even the worst name.”

Taron snickered. “God, Dickie, can you imagine? Being the person that has to make up the names?” They smiled at each other and a little more of Taron’s confidence returned. He uncapped the lube and poured a bit into his palm, then swirled it around on his fingers. It was soft and slick and cool, though it warmed quickly in his hand. It didn’t seem to be sticky and it was thinner than he’d expected. He swallowed and looked up at Dickie, whose gaze seemed to be fixed on where his fingers were still idly rubbing the lube around. “Well, go on, then,” he said, nodding at Dickie’s groin, “pants off.”

Dickie scooted off him and stood, shucking his boxer briefs in a smooth motion. Taron sat up and pushed the condoms, the other tubes, and the hefty book off the bed. The motion knocked over the Meat Grease and, even though he grabbed it quickly, a puddle spread out onto the coverlet. 

Dickie climbed back onto the bed, laughing softly, and crawled over on his hands and knees. He turned so that his arse was pointed at Taron and smiled over his shoulder.

Taron bit his lip, looking from his lubed hand to Dickie’s arse. “Do I just, like, stick my finger in?” he asked uncertainly.

Dickie giggled. “Aye ,T, Ah think so?”

Taron couldn’t help giggling along with him. He was about to stick his finger up someone’s bum. It was a gorgeous bum, everything about Dickie was gorgeous, but it was still, at the end of the day, a bum. He was sure that once he got to the point of getting his cock in, it would feel sexy again, but right now he just felt a bit silly. He took a deep breath and poured more lube into his hand, just in case. He slowly brought his finger up and slid it between Dickie’s cheeks, from his tailbone to his perineum. Dickie hissed at the contact and Taron pulled back. “Alright, Dickie?”

Dickie laughed, a little breathless. “God, yes, T. Et’s brilliant.”

Taron exhaled in relief. He slid his finger along the same path, then headed back toward Dickie’s hole. He swallowed and slowly pressed the tip of his finger inside. Dickie gasped and Taron took that as a positive sign. He pushed in a bit further. He wasn’t entirely sure what else to do. Dickie had said preparation and stretching, which made sense because Taron’s cock was bigger than his bloody finger, but how was he supposed to get from finger to cock, exactly?

He gave his finger an experimental swirl to see if that would stretch anything and was surprised at how easy it was, beyond the initial constriction at least. When the curl of his finger swept down, he felt it brush across something and Dickie gasped out, “Oh!” Taron raised an eyebrow and nudged it again, thrilled at the spasm that shook Dickie. If he could get this kind of response with a finger … He focused his attention on that spot and felt himself growing hard at the thought of Dickie coming apart on his cock.

He withdrew his finger, added more lube, and pushed back in, with a second finger this time, which was a lot more challenging than the first but also came with a bigger payoff in Dickie’s reaction as he zeroed in on that spot again. He concentrated on sliding his fingers in and out, trying to make sure he brushed against that spot each time. His cock was growing impatient, Dickie was breathing hard and writhing and moaning, but two fingers still didn’t seem like enough. 

He pulled his fingers out and added more lube, noting with a sort of detached fascination that his whole hand and arm, not to mention Dickie’s arse and balls, were a dripping mess. Was there such a thing as too much lube? He bit his lip and reminded himself that Dickie had said to use a lot and, judging by his reactions, it was certainly working. He put three fingers together, trying to smash the tips together to fit them inside the tight ring of muscles guarding Dickie’s arsehole. He started to push in slowly and stopped almost immediately. There seemed to be a lot more resistance this time. 

He took a few deep breaths and rested his forehead on the left side of Dickie’s arse. He kissed the place where Dickie’s thigh joined and repositioned his fingers, sliding them slowly in. Dickie moaned out his name and pushed himself back against them but they didn’t seem to be budging.

“Taron, please,” Dickie whined.

“I’m trying but you’ve got to relax or something Dickie, they’re not going in.” Taron nipped at his arse and Dickie gasped. The ring relaxed a bit and Taron’s fingers made some progress. Taron grinned and bit Dickie again, and it worked again. He laughed. “Is that the secret, then? Do I just need to bite my way in?” 

Dickie moaned in response and Taron took that as confirmation. Biting he could do, it was basically his natural state when he was horny, and there was something about Dickie that had always increased Taron’s urge to sink his teeth in. He positioned his mouth closer to Dickie’s hole and scraped his teeth up in an arc, about an inch from where his fingers were still stuck, only barely inside, digging in for a solid bite at the top. Dickie’s body shuddered and he was in to his second knuckles. He chuckled and bit down again, a little more forcefully. 

“Fuck, _TARON_,” Dickie cried and bucked under him, pushing himself back on to Taron’s fingers. He started to spread his fingers out and rotated his hand back and forth, curling his fingers in to brush against the spot inside Dickie and then widening them out again.

Taron nibbled at the on the flesh at the top of Dickie’s inner thigh, just about where it intersected behind his balls, not caring that he got lube in his mouth. It actually wasn’t all that unpleasant, though he certainly wouldn’t call it good either. More of a texture than a flavour. He bit down again, taking a solid chunk of that flesh between his teeth, tugging it gently as Dickie started to fuck himself back on to Taron’s hand in earnest. He sucked and bit and played with his fingers inside Dickie’s body until Dickie was begging incoherently. Knowing that he’d made a mess of his calm, measured lover went straight to Taron’s cock, which was hard and leaking in anticipation.

He released Dickie’s thigh, kissed the mark he’d made there, and slowly withdrew his fingers. Dickie’s upper body had fallen against the bed at some point, and Taron grinned smugly at the thought of his arms giving out from under him, and at the whimper that he made at the loss of Taron’s hand and mouth.

Taron gently nudged his hip. “Roll over, love.”

Dickie’s legs flopped bonelessly down but he didn’t move otherwise. He was heaving in great gulps of air and a little sliver of concern ran down Taron’s spine.

“Dickie? Are you ok?”

Dickie huffed out a wheeze that only marginally resembled a laugh. Taron’s brow furrowed and he crawled a bit further up the bed, then pushed Dickie up on to his side, where he promptly fell onto his back. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he smiled up at Taron. He raised a shaky hand to Taron’s face. “Ah’m fine, love” he paused and wheezed out another laugh. Taron bit his lip and Dickie pulled him in for a kiss, shaking his head as their lips met. He pressed their foreheads together. “Tha’ was jus’,” he laughed again, with less wheeze this time. “Fuck, T, ef tha’s wha’ yer fingers feel like, Ah’m going te lose my mind on yer cock.”

Taron exhaled in relief and then laughed as well. He kissed Dickie and then tugged on his lower lip with his teeth. He scooted back down the bed, shucked his pants, then knelt between Dickie’s legs. He pushed them up into Dickie’s chest, and positioned himself so that his cock was lined up with Dickie’s hole. He drizzled lube over himself and met Dickie’s gaze, locking eyes as he slowly pushed in. 

Dickie squirmed underneath him. “Fuck, T, yeh feel so good.”

Taron couldn’t answer. He squeezed the base of his cock to stop from coming as soon as he was surrounded by the tight heat of Dickie’s body. He’d known it would be tight, he’d just had his fingers in there after all, but knowing wasn’t the same as feeling. Every time Dickie moved, something clenched around Taron’s cock and it was taking everything he had to hold back his orgasm. He felt a bit lightheaded and forcibly inhaled, realising he’d stopped breathing.

“T?”

He nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, Dickie. I just,” he exhaled in a burst. “You feel incredible and if I move, I’m going to come.” 

He gulped as Dickie laughed, clenching around him. “So then come, love.”

Taron shook his head. “Not before you.”

Dickie’s laugh kicked up a notch, infused with more than a hint of naughtiness, and he wriggled his hips. “S’no’ a competition, T.”

“I know, Dickie,” Taron got out through clenched teeth, “but I’m trying to make it good for you. I want to do it _right_.”

Dickie grinned deviously and reached up a hand to cup Taron’s jaw. “Such a perfectionist. Et _is_ good fer me, yeh daft wanker.” He rolled his hips up a bit and clenched around Taron, waggling his eyebrows. Taron gasped, his ears roaring as he tried to push down his need to come. “Besides, love, we can always do et again ef we need more practice. Et’ll be like the 100 takes yeh demanded fer each kiss, jus’ ‘te get et right.’”

Taron laughed at Dickie’s air quotes, he couldn’t help himself, and leaned forward to nip at Dickie’s calf. Dickie groaned and Taron took a chance, pulling out and then thrusting back in. He bit his lip to hold off his orgasm, determined to get Dickie there first, regardless of what he said, and was well-pleased as Dickie gasped beneath him. He withdrew again and thrust in a bit harder and faster. He felt his cock brush across the spot inside Dickie and centred his attention on repeating that with his next few thrusts.

“Fuck, yes, Taron, _fuck_,” Dickie started to babble at him as he picked up his pace, more confident in his ability to hold off as he focused intently on Dickie … at least until Dickie clenched around him and his rhythm faltered as he once more choked back his orgasm. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer so he wrapped his lube-slicked hand around Dickie’s cock, letting the movement of his hips, as he thrust in against that spot, push Dickie’s cock up through his fist. “_FUCK_,” Dickie bellowed, “_TARON_,” as he came undone underneath Taron with just two more thrusts, cock spurting, mouth babbling, body shuddering and clenching and writhing. 

Taron felt heat rush through his body and out of his cock as he roared out, “_RICHARD_” and came as well, his hips pumping wildly before he collapsed on top of Dickie, both of them shaking and gasping for air. 

After a moment, Dickie kissed the side of his face, bringing Taron back to himself. He grinned at Dickie, who grinned right back at him. “I win,” he whispered.

Dickie cocked an eyebrow at him, then rolled them so that he was on top. “S’tha’ so?” Taron just smiled smugly back at him. A wicked light came into Dickie’s eyes. “Well, Ah spose Ah dinna _hate_ it,” he mused.

Taron burst out laughing and Dickie joined him, falling onto Taron’s chest. As soon as one them stopped, they’d look at each other and set each other off again. It hadn’t even been that funny but laughing like this with Dickie felt so good, especially after all his earlier worry, that Taron just kept going and he wondered if something similar was happening for Dickie. When their laughter finally petered out, they grinned happily at each other for a few moments. 

Dickie stood and reached a hand to pull him up as well. Together they surveyed the utter destruction of the bed cover. There were multiple puddles where the lube had spilled, though Taron would’ve sworn it had only fallen over the one time, streaks of come spattered everywhere, and, of course, the largest puddle of lube and come where Dickie’s arse had been. 

“We’re going to have to leave a huge tip.”

That set Dickie off again and he cuffed Taron on the back of the head. “O’course we will, yeh daft bugger, but tha’s tomorrow. Tonight we still hafta sleep in tha’.”

Taron’s eyes widened. He hadn’t even thought about where they’d sleep. “Do you, uh, should we move to my room?”

Dickie laughed again and towed him toward the bathroom.

____

Looking at the mess they’d made wasn’t any better once they’d cleaned off, if anything it was worse now that it had cooled and possibly congealed and their hands were clean. Dickie cackled at the look on Taron’s face, shaking his head and muttering, “Honestly, Taron,” then simply shucked the top cover off the bed. There were a couple more layers of blankets and when Dickie slid in under them, still laughing, Taron shook his head at himself and followed. He wrapped himself around Dickie and they kissed and laughed and fell asleep curled around each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex Ed 101:  
The [‘Guide To Getting It On’](https://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/1885535171/ref=dbs_a_def_awm_bibl_vppi_i0) is a real book, 624 pp in the most recent edition. It covers a lot of different topics though it’s a bit light on the details so it’s more an excellent jumping off point than an exhaustive resource. I’m not in any way affiliated with it or its author; I’ve simply found it helpful. One key drawback is definitely that it’s written for a cisheteronormative audience.
> 
> Lube 101:  
To the best of my knowledge, and limited internet searches, Meat Grease isn’t a real lube. There are many, many lubes out there and Dickie’s comment about there being lots of rules is true - different lubes do different things and some don’t work with condoms, others don’t work with certain toys, some are better for vaginal sex, others are better for anal sex, etc. It can be intimidating to find a good one but the folks at your local sex shop are generally super helpful and happy to support people in finding the best lube(s) for them. If there’s not a sex shop nearby, or you really don’t wanna talk to anyone, [here’s a handy intro guide](https://www.goodvibes.com/s/content/c/How-To-Choose-A-Lubricant) from the folks at Good Vibes, a shop based in San Francisco.


	4. livin’ like lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taron & Richard at SDCC 2019

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags specific to this chapter:
> 
> Plugs, Praise, Minor Edging

###### Friday

Taron shot Mark a tight smile and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glad the moderator had deflected the question of him singing. There was no way he could sing right now. Well, not and have any fans left afterward. He shifted again and tried to stay focused on the Q&A.

When the question came about what they were currently watching, he blanked. The guy must have been a plant – Netflix couldn’t have asked for a better question if they’d paid him, meaning they likely had. After what felt like far too long, he really wasn’t going to be getting more calls from Netflix anytime soon, he managed to pull “Stranger Things” out of his brain some how and could’ve smacked Louis for calling him out about not watching it. He laughed it off, hoping it seemed good natured and couldn’t hide his relief when they stopped everything to salute Mark. He tried not to count down the minutes but his discomfort was ramping up quickly and he still had to get through the signing after the panel. It was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate on anything other than not squirming.

The plug hadn’t been a good idea. He’d been so sure he was ready to move up to the next size and so excited to have this naughty little secret as he sat down but nearly an hour later he was regretting it. 

Finally he was free and he made his way to the gents, hoping he wasn’t obviously waddling but also not able to spare the attention to care just now. Emerging a few moments later, he felt like a new man. He hadn’t had anything to carry the plug in and so, while he was sorry to see it go, he was still too high from the euphoria of taking it out for the loss to have registered. As he took himself back to his hotel room to rest and refresh, he realised he was going to need a plan B.  
  


###### Saturday 

As he wandered around the party, beverage in hand, he was practically bouncing on his toes with excitement. Any minute now, Dickie would be here and Taron couldn’t wait to see how he reacted to his surprise.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned into the arms he’d been missing as Dickie enveloped him in a tight hug. He threw his arms around Dickie and planted a kiss on his cheek, loving the flush that spread across Dickie’s face and the feel of his arms tightening their hold. It was a solid hug, Dickie really gave the best hugs in Taron’s experience, and it lasted long enough for Taron to question why he was ever anywhere but encircled in Dickie’s arms. He felt the tensions and tiredness from the past few days slipping off his shoulders and he buried his face into the crook of Dickie’s neck for the briefest nuzzle before they released each other and stepped back. Taron took the opportunity to slip the remote into Dickie’s pocket as his arms came down and hoped that Dickie would attribute his grin to his joy at seeing each other.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Taron was trying not to lose his fanboy mind as Lin-Manuel Miranda and Daveed Diggs gave him their – _VERY_ positive, holy shit – impressions of Rocketman when he felt a vibration start up against his prostate. He blinked quickly and swallowed. The vibration picked up speed and Taron gasped, trying to cover it with a cough, then thankfully it stopped. He could only imagine what his face looked like as Lin-Manuel and Daveed exchanged a look.

“Everything alright?” Lin-Manuel asked, one eyebrow raised. 

Taron nodded quickly, and far more than was strictly necessary but he couldn’t seem to stop bobbing his head. “Yeah, I, uh, yeah,” he nodded a few more times, knowing he must look like one of those bobble-heads gone mental and yet unable to stop himself. “Thank you _so much_ for your kind words. If you’ll excuse me.” He didn’t even wait for their acknowledgement before he turned and started pushing his way through the party. He needed a vantage point so he could find Dickie.

The vibration started again and he nearly stumbled. He gulped and slowed to a more measured pace, one that he could more or less maintain despite the pulsing on and off of the vibrations. Knowing that Dickie had found the remote and was _using_ it, and in _PUBLIC_, would’ve been enough to get his cock hard on its own. Combined with the slightly intensified stimulation against his prostate, he was going to need to find Dickie soon or he was going to embarrass himself in the middle of the party. 

Taking a few more steps, he spotted Dickie chatting with Maisie, both of them looking quizzically down at the remote in Dickie’s hand. Oh god. It hadn’t occurred to him that Dickie might not realise what it was but that was the only possible conclusion when Maisie reached out and pressed a button, changing the rhythm and speed of the vibrations and causing Taron to have to clutch at a nearby table to prevent his knees buckling out from under him. 

He made his way over to them, stepping behind Richard to hide his erection and whispering in his ear, “Dickie, love, you’ve got to turn it off.”

Dickie started and turned to him with wide eyes. Taron wrapped an arm around him, so that he couldn’t turn his body enough to expose Taron, and pressed his erection into Dickie’s hip. He forced a smile at Maisie who was giving him a strange look. 

“Please, love, turn it off and I’ll explain.” 

Dickie tapped the power button, then unobtrusively slipped the remote back into his pocket, and Taron sagged against him in relief. He still had a cockstand that could pound in any loose nails laying about, but at least he was no longer in imminent danger of coming in his pants.

He lifted his head to find both Dickie and Maisie staring at him. “Sorry, about that, must’ve lost my footing there,” he plastered on a smile and tried to convey to Dickie that they needed to speak privately. Dickie shook his head, clearly mystified, and Maisie gave him a skeptical, then an assessing look as her eyes passed back and forth between them.

“Always lovely to see you, Rich,” she said, leaning in for a double cheek kiss before smirking at Taron and walking away into the party.

Dickie rounded on him, the remote once more in his hand. “Wha’, exactly, do Ah have here?” he asked, one eyebrow up in challenge. He moved his thumb over the power button and Taron heard himself whimper. 

“Don’t, Dickie, please.” He reached out and tried to take the remote back but Dickie was a bit too quick for him. Taron grinned at him, shaking his head. “You’re a bit of a bastard sometimes, Dickie.”

Dickie grinned back. He poised his thumb threateningly once more. “So?”

“It’s a remote,” Taron blurted, eyes on that hovering thumb as he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. 

“Ah’d worked that bit out on ma own,” Dickie gestured at him to say more and Taron looked quickly around to see if anyone else was nearby. “Wha’ is’t a remote _to_, T?”

Taron looked over his shoulder again, just in case, then leaned in to whisper, “To a plug.”

Dickie’s eyes widened. “A _plug_? As in–”

“_YES_,” Taron hissed at him. 

“Wha’ the bloody hell were you thinkin’, Taron?” 

“That you’d know better than to use it while we were still at the party!” Taron closed his eyes and lowered his voice. “I just thought it–” His eyes popped open as Dickie barked out a laugh. 

Dickie was nearly doubled over in merriment. “Oh, god, T, Ah’m sorry, but,” he paused to release a few more laughs, “your _FACE_.”

Taron tried to maintain his indignation but couldn’t help smiling fondly down at Dickie. “Well, now you’ve had your laugh, can I have the remote back, please?”

Dickie straightened up, eyes alight with mischief. “Oh, no, T. You gave’t te me an’ t’would be rude te return a gift.” He winked at Taron and slid the remote back into his pocket. “Ah’ll just hold on te this for the rest of the party.”

“The re-rest of the party?” Taron pressed his cock into Dickie’s hip again. It was still more than half hard. “Wouldn’t you rather head back to the hotel?”

Dickie smirked at him. “All in good time, T. There are a few more people Ah’d like te say hello to first.” Taron swallowed and Dickie took pity on him, putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning in to whisper, “Meet me back at mine in an hour.” He stepped back and turned toward the other guests. “Enjoy the party,” he called over his shoulder and pressing the power button. Taron shivered and the vibration stopped. He took a couple of deep breaths. It was going to be a long hour.

* * *

Thankfully, Dickie only buzzed him a few more times as the party progressed. Well, only a few times in the thirty minutes Taron remained. It was as though he had some sort of sixth sense for whenever Taron’s erection started to flag. Taron knew he couldn’t have been watching that closely, it would’ve been impossible at the party and given the angles at which Dickie would’ve had to bend light to see Taron’s cock softening, but, sure enough, every time the pressure eased off a bit, Dickie would buzz him and his cockstand would be back in an instant. It had seemed better for everyone, or at least for Taron’s constant mortification, that he leave early. As a bonus, once he’d said his goodbyes and headed over to the hotel to wait, he’d been out of range of that evil little remote. 

When Dickie got off the elevator he grinned at Taron, seated in the hallway against Dickie’s door. Taron felt the plug go off and groaned. Dickie unlocked his door and beckoned Taron inside, chuckling when it took him a few tries to stand as Dickie ramped up the intensity of the vibrations. As soon as he’d crossed the threshold, he slammed the door shut and pounced on Dickie, wrenching the remote away and shutting it off, then hauling him in for a kiss. Dickie met him eagerly and they stumbled their way to the bed, tearing at each other’s clothes. Dickie pushed him down on to the bed and pulled his undershirt over his head before straddling Taron’s hips and bringing their lips together again. Taron kicked off his shoes and let Dickie push his undershirt up and off. Dickie began kissing his way down Taron’s chest, biting playfully at his nipples, tracing patterns through Taron’s chest hair with his tongue, nipping at his hip bones, and sliding his trousers down his legs. Taron’s cock was aching and he moaned when Dickie dropped a kiss to the tip, then whimpered as Dickie transferred his attention and nibbled his way down Taron’s thighs, removing the rest of Taron’s clothing as he went. 

“Dickie,” Taron whined as he paused to press a wet kiss to the crook of Taron’s knee. Dickie made a humming noise and the vibration shot up Taron’s leg to his cock. His hips came up off the bed and Dickie pushed him down again, then slid his hands to the inside of Taron’s thighs and spread them wide. He worked his mouth slowly from the inside of Taron’s knee to the top of his thigh and then pressed his tongue against Taron’s perineum. Taron keened with need as his hips jerked, his cock desperate to be touched. “Dickie, _PLEASE_.”

Dickie traced a slow circle around the base of the plug with his finger and smiled as Taron writhed at the touch. Dickie sucked the tip of Taron’s cock into his mouth as he slowly worked the plug out, pulling away as Taron’s balls started to draw up tight. Taron began to beg in earnest, thrusting his cock back toward Dickie’s mouth, wanting to complete his orgasm, but to no avail. Dickie feathered light kisses down his shaft and once more pressed his tongue into Taron’s perineum as the plug finally popped free. Dickie sat back and raised an eyebrow at Taron.

“Tha’s impressive, love,” he murmured. “How did yeh even get it in?”

Taron smiled smugly at him. “I’ve been practising, building up to it. I had a larger one in yesterday during my panel but it was a bit too much. This one, though, was a little smaller and so it worked.” 

Dickie leaned down and licked around the edge of Taron’s hole. Taron convulsed at the feeling. Dickie sat back once more and then got up and walked around to the head of the bed. He withdrew a tube of lube from the nightstand, then slid his trousers and pants off. Taron watched avidly as Dickie drizzled lube along his cock, then gave himself a few pumps with his fist. 

He knelt once more between Taron’s thighs. Taron rolled his thighs into his chest to give Dickie easy access to his hole, stretched and greedy as it was. Dickie grinned at him as he positioned himself. “Yesterday’s was too big, today’s was too small, Ah wonder if Ah can find sommat tha’s just right fer ma Goldilocks,” he mused as he thrust hard into Taron.

Taron moaned as Dickie filled him. His cock was bigger than the plug he’d just removed and there was a not-quite-unpleasant burn as Taron’s body tried to accommodate him.

As Dickie began to thrust in and out, he started talking, his hips picking up speed as he spoke. “God, T, yeh feel so good around ma cock. Ah’ve been looking forward te you all week and my cock has been hard since yeh told me wha’ that remote was doin’. Yeh look bloody fantastic spread out beneath me, you take ma cock so gorgeously.” He leaned forward, changing his angle slightly, and captured Taron’s lips. His tongue thrust into Taron’s mouth in time with his cock thrusting into Taron’s arse and Taron could feel his orgasm building again. He hoped Dickie would let him come this time. 

Dickie broke their kiss, moaning Taron’s name as his hips stuttered and locked. Taron felt the flood of warmth as Dickie’s come emptied into his body. Dickie’s hand came down around Taron’s cock and pumped frantically, Taron’s orgasm exploding across his consciousness after only a few jerks. Dickie collapsed on top of him and they both heaved in great gasps of air.

Dickie kissed him as his breathing slowed, tracing his lips across Taron’s cheek and jaw as Taron shuddered in reaction. They were definitely getting better at this.

He must’ve said that out loud as Dickie wheezed out a laugh and said, “Aye, that we are.” He kissed Taron softly and nuzzled their noses together. “Ah’ve missed yeh, T, god how Ah’ve missed yeh.” He smiled and rested his forehead against Taron’s. “Thank yeh fer ma present, love.”

Taron coughed a laugh and wrapped Dickie tightly in his arms. “You’re welcome, Dickie. I’ve missed you too.”


End file.
